


of ground, found and broken

by papyrocrat



Category: Dollhouse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-17 14:49:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papyrocrat/pseuds/papyrocrat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>gift-fic for </p>
            </blockquote>





	of ground, found and broken

It’s just so hot.

Priya likes it here, likes the air scraping over the dry, flat land. It reminds her of teenage summers spent in tents and a haze of ditch weed, lying back and looking up at the stars and wondering if they were bothering to look back. (It seems impossible for this to be the same sky, the stars have moved so many times; she hopes for their sakes they are looking away.)

A real memory. (She thinks.) (Will she feel this way every time she remembers, every time she recognizes a word or a face or thinks of her mother, will the thousand droplets of doubt sink through and erode her sense of reality? Will she even be Alpha then, or just one more relic of Rossum’s hubris?)

No, the memory is real, she decides (because it’s up to her, her and no one else) and so this place feels very much like home.

It isn’t much now, just a couple of tractor-trailers that Echo and Victor had rescued from the worst of the mobs that finally chased them out of Los Angeles, parked in front of a ramshackle hut Alpha built on his own. She has avoided it so far; they don’t know why he’s out here or how long it will be before Echo has to kill him; she doesn’t want to remind him of any of it, whatever he was, he deserves as much peace as he can get.

They’re out here because everything’s gone. Everything’s gone, and Priya is finally free. Even the pang of guilt she feels at that is a luxury, because it’s hers.

Footsteps fall behind her, and this time she doesn’t have to wonder, she’s sure; she turns around and smiles up at Tony.

“Welcome home.”

“You too,” he smiles, and leans in for a kiss (as they have several dozen times before, sometimes even as themselves; she begrudges none of them).

After several lifetimes (and they would both know) they come up for air. Tony blinks and laughs and asks her where they are. He forgets things, too easily. She almost envies him.

“We’re at Safe Haven,” she decides out loud.

Tony smiles back. “That sounds about right.”  



End file.
